Husband to Liza, Father to Story, Friend to the Missy Dog, thinker, writer, speaker, procrastinator, lover of God and people and the Content Creator at Student Life. I also like canoeing and carpentry and reading and traveling. That's pretty much it, I guess.
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Thanks for reading!
I don’t use the past tense here because I’m not sure I’m really through it.
So, what’s a blogidentity? Simply put, I’m defining it as who you are in the realm of social media. Some might define it as your personal online brand. And as is quoted by so many books and blogs on branding, your brand isn’t who you say you are. It’s who they say you are.
But what if they aren’t saying anything about you? Or worse, what if they don’t really care at all?
That’s a bit overdramatic, I know. But it’s a harsh truth of the blogosphere. I watched some video somewhere at some point where Seth Godin (marketing guru) made the point that, with regards to your blog and social media presence, “I don’t care about you. I care about me.”
What that means is all of you readers of Enigmatic Meanderings, for the most part, don’t really care what I have to say simply because you like me or something. You only care in as much as what I have to say (what I write) matters to you.
To be honest, I haven’t gotten that.
I wrote a little while back about the best use of my blog ever. I had huge readership for a few days. Though I continued to post, this quickly trickled off because people didn’t care about the other stuff I was writing about. They cared about Sterling. And that’s great, except…
I interpreted their rejection of my content as a rejection of me.
And it doesn’t help that I’ve been away from this blog for basically a month and not one person has asked if or when I’d be back at it.
I don’t say all that to throw a pity party for myself. I write it to let you know that I (once again) am just having to re-evaluate this whole thing and try to decide what to do.
If I say I’m writing just for the sake of doing it, because I enjoy it, because it’s good to just create, because I’m an “artist” or whatever and making “art” is what I do… I’d just be lying.
I write to be read. Any writer who says they do otherwise is probably full of it, to be honest.
So, thank you for reading.
And every now and then, if you don’t mind and it’s not too much trouble, let me know you’re there.
How do you deal with/embrace/overcome/develop your blogidentity?
We all love stories. Whether we’re watching them on a screen, reading them in a book, listening to them around a campfire or whispering them to our children before bed, there’s something universally enchanting about being told a good story.
Of course, few of us really put a lot of thought into what exactly makes them “good.” We just know when they are. However, in his new book, Donald Miller does just that. He boils the essence of a story down to this: a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.
And this makes complete sense. Whenever we think of our favorite stories, we inevitably think of our favorite characters and the journey on which they embark and we get to join them.
But few, if any, of us would ever consider how we as a character fit into and affect the ongoing story of our lives. Don (hopefully he won’t mind if I call him “Don”), however, did when two filmmakers approached him about turning His best-selling memoir Blue Like Jazz into a movie. In actually crafting the story of his fictionalized self, he was forced to examine his own life, what he wanted and what he was willing to overcome to get it.
Reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, I found myself doing the exact same thing with regards to my own life. I’ve passed it on to various friends, and they’ve done the same thing.
You see, there seems to be this generation of us who have done everything we’re supposed to. We’ve studied hard and gotten good educations, landed solid jobs, began investing in our futures, started families of our own, and tried to care for the least of these and leave the world a better place than when we found it. But underneath it all, there’s still been this current of unease, as if there’s something more or at least could be.
Through his writing in A Million Miles, Don helps any of us for whom that rings true by allowing us to peer into his own story, and see if from what he learned we might discover something about our own and how all of our stories play a part in the greater Story.
It isn’t about mere positive thinking. It isn’t a selfish, self-centered self-help void of God. It isn’t about achieving the American dream. It isn’t a postliberal narrative theology. And it isn’t about navel-gazing or stopping to smell the roses.
This book is about living and living with meaning, not for a couple of hours in a theater or curled up on your sofa on a rainy Saturday afternoon not just for a season, but for a lifetime.
This past weekend, I finally did it. I cut off my cable.
Some of you may be thinking, “Big deal. So, what?” But to me it is a big deal. In fact, I’m not sure I realized how much of a big deal it is until I actually disconnected the cable box and had my TV search for what channels I was now left with. When the number popped up and I flipped through them, I had a physical reaction, something between nausea and heartache. That’s the moment I knew I’d made the right decision.
You see, I watch a lot of television. When I say “a lot,” I mean that if I’m at my house, the TV is at least on, but, chances are, I’m sitting there watching it. Even if I’m on my computer or playing with Story or cleaning or even reading, my attention is at least split between that thing I’m doing and watching whatever’s on. I’m too ashamed to assign a percentage to which usually wins out.
So, a while back, inspired by some other people I know, I decided to get rid of cable. Notice I didn’t say I was losing TV completely. No. It’s still there. I just installed an antennae in my attic that now basically picks up the major broadcast networks, PBS and about seven religious channels.
We’ve (Liza and I) done this before, but I honestly plan on this time being more permanent. We don’t need cable. We’ve still got some channels. We’ve still got the internet. And those things are really “needs,” but still…
The whole thing has kinda been like exorcising a demon in my life that’s been a welcome guest for far too long. I know that sounds overly dramatic, but for me, that’s honestly what it’s been.
Anyway, if I had to put down my reasons for losing cable in list form, it would look something like the following:
1. Save money.
2. Free up time to do other things.
3. Pay more attention to and spend more quality time with Liza and Story.
4. Read more (especially my Bible).
5. Simplify things.
6. Increase how often I say, “there’s nothing on.”
7. No longer be sucked in by cheesy B-movies on SyFy Saturday or anything with the suffix “of Love” in the title on VH1.
8. Cease allowing Saved by the Bell on TBS to cut into my exercise time in the mornings.
9. To stimulate Story through actual tangible means rather than flashing lights and loud noises. I’ll leave that to her toys.
10. Cut dependency on something that was never meant to be dependable.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.
1 Corinthians 13:11
Yesterday I was on Facebook (as I’m often am during the day, especially when procrastinating the actual things I need to do; I have a real problem) and realized that out of the 12 items in my highlight feed (you know; the one over on the right) 8 of them featured kids under the age of six. Each of the kids featured belong to friends of mine. I’m sure that in their highlight feed some item featuring the Storykins pops up pretty regularly (especially if they’re also friends with Liza). Anyway, a year ago my highlight feed would most certainly not have featured so many items about children.
Also the other day I began having a bit of a health issue. I won’t go in to details about it, at least not yet, because right now I don’t know that it is anything. But it made me immediately progress down the line of thought to where I pictured myself being wheeled around in a wheelchair hooked up to various tubes and bags.
My back hurts. Regularly. So does my left elbow.
I’ve been losing my hair for awhile now but it’s only recently that I realized it was past the point of no return. There is no amount of therapy that can help. My hair has simply given up on life. It’s sad to watch, really.
I was reading someone’s blog last night who was named one of the top 30 people under 30 in her city. I thought, “I can never be named one of the top 30 under 30 anymore.”
All of this (and some other stuff) made me feel very… not old… but… grown up, I guess. Like for years being “grown up” is this ethereal phase of life that’s out there and that you want to achieve but never really see coming. That is until… BOOM! POW!! ZAP!!! It’s happened. And when I had that thought… “I guess this is it… I’m grown up… I don’t necessarily feel grown up… is this what grown up really is… or did I blow it somehow… (sigh)…” I realized that “grown up” definitely now had a negative connotation for me. No longer was it something to be looked forward to, to strive for and achieve. It had now become something to be mourned.
Or is it?
Late last week I was having a conversation with some friends in which the phrase “junior high sucks” was uttered. And we were all like, “Yeah! Junior high does suck.” And we sat around for awhile telling embarrassing stories from our own junior high experiences and laughing about how much it sucked.
Now, I know that some of you work with junior high students in schools or churches and that you love them and think the world of them and don’t want to work with anyone else. I get that, completely. Notice that I am not saying “junior highers suck” because they don’t. But junior high? It most certainly does. Even those junior highers (or middle schoolers) you know who love life and everything about it right now will one day look back and realize that junior high actually, in all reality, kinda sucked (at least a little bit).
So, I was lying awake thinking last night (as I’m prone to do) and realized that though I’m “grown up” I guess. I’ve still got a lot of growing to do, and, from my perspective, I definitely consider that a good thing. Not only that, but I love where I am right now. Not everything about my life is how I expected it to be or would possibly even want it to be, but if my parts of my life weren’t as they are now, would the others be. To put it differently, would I have to lose the parts of my current life I want to keep in order to alter the ones I want to change?
Besides, junior high sucked (well, I didn’t go to junior high; I attended a middle school; but middle school sucked; so did ninth grade; so, yeah, junior high sucked). High school, in a lot of ways, sucked. College was okay, but school was still involved, so that gains it at least a few notches on the suck-0-meter. Now, I make my own decisions and live my own life. Nothing is laid out for me if I don’t want it to be (at least not so much as it might be pre-ordained by God). I sure don’t get it right all the time (as many of you can attest to), but I own it.
Why would I want it any different?
If I did, I’d be like those people the writer of Hebrews is addressing. You know the ones… they want to stay on milk ’cause it’s easy instead of putting in the effort and work to move on and embrace solid food (it’s a metaphor for the Word of God; check it out in Hebrews 5-6).
You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.
Deuteronomy 5:11
Ok, bear with me on this one.
When I was a kid we were taught the ten commandments (I grew up in a Christian family that attended a Southern Baptist church, traditional and conservative; what we were taught was the actual list of commandments, not the Charlton Heston movie). It was mostly assumed that we wouldn’t be killing anyone (at least not anytime soon) and that adultery and coveting our neighbor’s wife were at the least a long ways off. So, attention was normally focused elsewhere. Things like “do not steal,” “do not lie” (bear false witness) and “honor your father and mother” normally received special regular attention. When it came to the commandments about God, again, there wasn’t much concern about us worshipping idols, and our parents usually saw to it that we observed the Sabbath (in so far as it involved going to church on Sundays), and we were being taught all the time that there was just one God and that His name was Jesus (they didn’t get too much into the concept of the Trinity; I guess they thought we’d be confused; whatever would give them that idea?). So, from those first four commandments (you can find the whole list here or here), we were mainly taught to not take the name of the LORD our God in vain.
In those years, as my fellow young Christians-in-training and I wrestled with the concepts of sin and depravity we were led to understand that taking God’s name in vain was a really big deal. Of course we were left with the question of what exactly it meant to take His name in vain. The way we basically understood it was this: if you use God’s name in any way other than in talking directly to Him or about Him then you’re taking it in vain. The most common way in which we had seen this sin committed was when people would use His name in either shock, anger or frustration. You know what I mean. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe Susan cheated on Rick with him!” (maybe it would have been okay if Susan had cheated on Rick with someone else, I don’t know) or “Jesus Christ! Get the hell out of here!” Something like that. Of course, God has so many names in the Bible, but it never occurred to us to consider any of those. We were only worried about the names we knew Him by: “God” and “Jesus” (we didn’t really count the Holy Spirit; for one thing, no one ever talked about Him much; for another, His name had an awful lot of syllables and didn’t really roll of the tongue in a way that made His name an adequate exclamation). The worst you could do though was to combine His name with one of the dreaded curse words like “dammit.”
Below is a short bit from Bill Cosby: Himself that illustrates a bit what I’m talking about.
So, anyway, as a child we already knew that when it came to the ten commandments, at least the ones “they” really seemed to harp on, we weren’t doing too good. Lying seemed to be a part of our DNA (though we were completely unaware of the existence of DNA at the time). We regularly committed acts both big and small that not only didn’t honor our father and other but often outright dishonored them. In fact, most of us had already stolen something, even if it was just the special edition Snake Eyes figure our friends had but we didn’t.
Well, since we weren’t doing too good with the rest, we all somehow collectively resigned that we would at least avoid taking our Lord’s name in vain. It seemed pretty easy, after all. Why? Because we’d still say the same things. We’d just alter them ever so slightly. Therefore new phrases entered our regular repertoire of expressions, phrases like “oh, my gosh/goodness/gah” and “jeez” and the ever-so-popular “gosh darnit!”
This compromise worked well for us for awhile. We were able to “sound adult” (after all, they were the ones we heard using His name in vain, not us) and yet keep a gold star beside one of the big ten and consider ourselves good Christians (or at least better than the heathens around us). Our idyllic gosh darn life of sin-free expression fell apart, though, once we became teenagers. It’s not because we just gave up and started talking like drunken sailors come in to port (though some of us did). Instead it was because we became aware of a sin that had yet to have been revealed to us yet: substitute cursing. Let me explain.
You see, for years in Christian youth ministry there was a huge emphasis on changing our behavior. We couldn’t be like all of the other teenagers at our schools who were basically junior hedonists according to the adults. We had to be different from them. After all, Jesus was different from the world. However, the weird thing is that instead of focusing on what we should do or how we should be in order to be different, the focus was instead on what all of these “lost” teenagers were doing so that we would know what we shouldn’t be doing. We shouldn’t drink. We shouldn’t smoke. We shouldn’t do drugs. We shouldn’t have sex. We really shouldn’t make out even (dating was often up for debate too). We shouldn’t cheat. We shouldn’t break curfew. We shouldn’t go to wild parties. Etc. Of course, included in this list was that we shouldn’t curse (or cuss, as we knew it in the South), and evidently taking the Lord’s name in vain was cursing.
However, it wasn’t enough to simply not curse. The compromises that had kept our speech sin free for so long were now put on trial. The reason being that just because we didn’t actually say the curse words themselves didn’t mean we weren’t cursing. Even though we were using different words, we were still committing the same sins.
“Oh, shoot,” we thought and then realized we had just sinned by thinking “shoot” instead of what we really meant. “What are we going to do now?”
In response to that question, a split occurred in the youth of the American Church. Some adhered to these new guidelines. They embraced them with the hope that they too, along with all the other rules by which we were to live, would keep them from Satan’s clutches and ensure that they stayed in God’s will and came to dwell with Him one day in Heaven for all eternity. Others gave up completely and decided the whole church/God/Jesus/commandment thing wasn’t for them. Many were never heard from again (others grew up, got married, had kids, and decided their kids needed all those rules they were taught and are now back in churches all over the place).
The rest of us rebelled. This doesn’t mean that we abandoned our faith. We didn’t. We just saw through the bull-honkey and became cynical about almost everything we’d been taught. You see, we realized that drinking underage was not only not a good idea but was also illegal, but the arguement that the wine Jesus and His disciples drank in their day was just grape juice didn’t hold water for us anymore. After all, how did people get drunk on it? Those of us who adopted the “everything but” strategy of waiting on true love realized that our sexuality was pretty awesome, but we had been led to believe that it was pretty bad, possibly evil even, and something to be avoided all together because it was flat out wrong. We began to think that words were just words and that useage is what gave them their meaning. Plus we weren’t too convinced that the Bibles teaching’s against cursing involved specific words that began with “F” and “S.”
Therefore, there were a lot of those rules and commandments that we kinda just stopped worrying about. We still wanted to know God and Jesus (and even the Spirit). We just mistrusted that we had really been taught who He was up to that point. We believed we were somewhat on our own and, also, that we were right. We began emerging (wink, wink).
A lot of us have grown up, though, and matured a bit. We’ve let go of (at least some of) the bitterness we’ve carried around with us. We’ve realized that in some instances we tossed out the baby with the bathwater and have since come around to re-exploring what really is important and sometimes being surprised at what we find.
This al now brings me back to the commandment to not take the Lord’s name in vain. I’m no Hebrew scholar by any means, but I’ve got a couple of degrees in the Christian religion, and during my time “earning” those degrees I’ve had four full semesters devoted to the Old Testament and three to studying Hebrew. So, I’ve looked at the Law a little bit. One of the things I’ve learned is that when dealing with the Law there is a letter and a spirit. In other words, there is a strict literal applicaiton of what the Law (or a law) says and then the general sense that it may more imply rather than explicitly state.
Let’s take a couple for instance: 1. “Do not murder.” Pretty straightforward. The letter is that you shouldn’t kill. The spirit is that life is valuable, yours as much as mine, and that it shouldn’t be deliberately denied one of us by the other (this is a gross over-simplification for the sake of illustration; I fully acknowledge the complex nature of what I’m talking about, this comand in particular with how it relates to circumstances of war, captial punishment, self-defense, etc.). As followers of Christ we have been set free from the Law (Romans 8:2), but that doesn’t mean that we are not called to still adhere to its spirit (Hebrews 10, for example). With regard to this command, though, in order to keep the spirit of the law I must adhere to the letter of the law. 2. For this one, let’s use one personal to me: Leviticus 19:28. “Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves.” Now the letter of this law, again, is pretty straightforward, but what’s the spirit? Well, when you study it in context you realize that the entire block of verses in which this falls is about the people of God distinguishing themselves from the nations who worshiped other gods. As part of that worship and devotion they would often carve markings into their skin or tattoo themselves with various symbols. Now, the spirit we are to adhere to, then, is to be about the things of God and not the things of this world or of other false gods. Not getting a tattoo can certainly be a way in which that happens, but is it essential? I sure don’t see that it is.
So, let’s take Deuteronomy 5:11. In order to know the letter we have to ask what it means to take the Lord’s name in vain. What this verse is specifically addressing is the swearing by God in the taking of an oath or the making of a vow. The idea was that by invoking the name of a god in an agreement or promise, there would be this magical seal. It was a way for people to assure others or persuade others. God doesn’t like to be used like that. In fact, one of the things God has continuously proved is that He will not be “used” or manipulated at all, hence the forbidding of trying to do so. Okay. So, what’s the spirit? Well, as I see it, the spirit of this law is to treat God with the reverence He deserves. This seems to concern itself with doing this by reserving His name for its proper use (in prayer, praise, etc.) by not having it tainted through improper use.
Now, there’s never a moment when I use His name (whether seriously or flippantly) or hear it used that I don’t think of Him, however brief that thought might be. Even when I hear His name used in a manner in which I deem it inappropriate, I’m not tainted. Rather I think of Him and how it must pain Him. Even if I exclaim, “oh, my God,” in shock at some situation or cry out, “Jesus, that hurt,” when stubbing my toe, my thoughts actually go to Him, though I didn’t really intend for it to be so. Therefore the spirit and letter of this law can crossover a lot but also contain many more shades of gray than black and white.
I’ve brought this up because of the common uses of “OMG” and “OMFG” (you can figure out what “F” is, can’t you?) and other abbreviations that have become so commonplace. Yes, it’s an example of what some pastors from my young adult years would call “substitue cursing” and I do think it’s legalistic to start nit-picking on stuff like that. I just wonder how many people use an abbreviation like that and enver give one though to God whatsoever.
I have no prescription here, no firm stance. The ancient Hebrews took it so seriously that they refused to even write the name of God (Yahweh) for fear of using it inappropriately (of course we haven’t even addressed the issue of which name of God we should be most concerned about; if it’s Yahweh, then nearly all of us are pretty safe). I think that’s extreme, but I wonder if it’s not closer to the right thing than we currently are. I don’t know. I guess I’m just interested in sparking thought and contemplation in anyone who reads this. Why? Because I think it’s important. Even if we don’t really think it is, if our cynicism or anger over legalistic rules still abounds, if we don’t see what the big deal is and wonder whether or not it really matters, I can’t help but realize one of the big ten is devoted to the issue, which I believe means that it at least matters to Him.
I’ve written about church before and the struggle I’ve experienced over the past few years to find a local body of believers to be a part of. It wasn’t the finding a local church that was the problem. I live in the deep South, and there are literally hundreds of churches within my area that I could have joined. The problem was finding a church that I liked. Though saying it that way makes it sound much more shallow than it is. It wasn’t that I wanted to find a preacher that I liked or music that I liked or a small group or somewhere with a cool children’s program or something like that. It was really that I had grown pretty disillusioned with church because of some experiences that I had, and every church I visited seemed to have something really wrong with it that I perceived as a reason not to go there. Anyway, you can find those other posts elsewhere.
Now, on to the post:
The good news? I have found a church. I’ve actually only been to it three times. So, I think it’s doubly good that I’m even to now say that I consider myself a part of it. I haven’t officially joined yet (I’m sure we will, soon; you know how summer is), but I’m glad we’re going there. The church is Westwood Baptist Church.
If you knew me really well, and I tasked you to find a church for me, I doubt you would have picked Westwood. Most people I tell that’s where I’m going now seem genuinely surprised. If I had just looked at it without actually going, I probably would have stayed away. This isn’t because there’s something wrong with Westwood. It’s more that you probably would have thought that I would have found something I considered to be wrong with it. And it’s not necessarily that I haven’t. So, why am I going there?
Two reasons.
1. I get a sense of genuineness and that goes a long way with me.
2. I’ve matured a bit and gotten over myself.
The past few years have been some intense times of growth for me in a number of areas. But all of that growth has constituted a season of life during which I’ve realized how much ego I have and how I have to constantly battle against that ego daily. When it comes to church this meant that I came to a point where I knew I needed a church home and where I knew that the major obstacle to me finding a church home wasn’t the churches but was actually my own ego. I was looking for things that were wrong instead of the things that were right. To expect a church to be perfect is ridiculous. To not be willing to be a part of the solutions to problems is selfish. So, I picked a church. Liza picked the same one. It only took one visit on one Sunday, and we’re in. It feels great.
It feels right.
This past Sunday, Les, the pastor, was preaching about personal responsibility. He’s been doing this whole series of sermons on “Lost Words,” which are basically character traits that are biblical and Godly but that our society doesn’t seem to value much anymore (if they ever did in the first place). Personal responsibility is one of those lost words. The sermon was good, but not like the most earth-shattering thing you’ve ever heard. He was preaching from a passage I’m familiar with, 2 Samuel 15. It’s where David and his army are fleeing from Absalom. David tells Zadok the priest to return the Ark of the Covenant to the city because he’s not going to rely on it like some good luck charm. Instead, he’s going to leave things in God’s hands and face whatever consequences the Lord deems he deserves.
Anyway, like I said, it was good and Liza and I were listening intently, but at the end, there was just a brief moment that I’m sure many other people paid no attention to, where Les slapped me in the face (obviously, not literally). In fact, I have a good sense that God prompted him to say this in particular just for me. Here’s what it was.
Les was pretty much finished with the actual sermon part and was leading a kind of decision time so that people could respond to what they had heard. He was challenging all of us to take personal responsibility for things in our own lives and then he began asking what those things might be. Were there things we blamed coworkers for or our spouses for or our children for or the economy or the government or our culture, etc.? Then came the clencher when he said:
“Is there something in your life that’s your responsibility but for which you’ve been blaming the church?”
Talk about hitting home. I realized in that moment, sitting there in this church I had decided to become a member of, the journey that God had been taking me on to heal me and change me and transform me. I’ve been so pissed at Him and so many others along the way because things weren’t going like I thought they should when all along I was the one not going the way I should. But He never gave up on me or abandoned me.
For that I’ll always be thankful to Les and to Westwood and, ultimately, to God, Himself, Whom I’ll be worshipping on Sundays with my new church family.
This may not make a lot of sense to you. I realize that. But it makes perfect sense to me.
I’m Starting With The Man In The Mirror
I’m Asking Him To Change His Ways
And No Message Could Have Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself And Then Make A Change
Lyrics by Glen Ballard, Siedah Garrett & Michael Jackson
Nobody’s perfect, right? I mean, we all know that. Especially about ourselves. Though, we probably like to admit it about ourselves the least. It’s much easier to point out the faults of someone, anyone, else other than ourselves. So often we expend great energy and significant amounts of time trying to hide just how imperfect we are. But every now and then our defenses break down. Someone recognizes the cracks in our facade and picks away at it until we are forced to face ourselves and admit that contrary to the lie we’ve been attempting to feed ourselves and everyone else, we don’t have it all together… not in the least.
I had one of those moments this past week. It wasn’t fun. i’ve been a person that has struggled with self-hatred ever since my adolescence. It’s compounded by my faith because I know it flies in the face of how God views me, and that’s one of the things I hate the most. But I digress… because of this struggle, I hate self-examination. I mean the real thing. I think I’m decently self-aware about faults and all. But if I think I’m putting up a good front for the world at large, then I tend to go along with it as well.
When I am forced into periods of true self-examination, I don’t always like what I see. In fact, I rarely like what I see if for no other reason then the negative is normally much more evident than the positive. That’s at least how it is for me. So, like I said, I had one of those moments this past week, and it sucks.
Especially when I consider that there has been sin that I’ve just been ignoring because it seemed easier to do so than to actually try to do anything about it. I’m not going to get into specifics here. It involves my relationships with too many people that probably don’t want me airing all our dirty laundry for the greater cyber-world at large. So, I won’t.
However, because being cryptic leaves room for your own interpretation let me say that the sin I’m talking about involves… pride, arrogance, vanity, malice, vengeance, lack of reconciliation, apathy, and probably some others I haven’t identified yet.
Now, when faced with yourself and your own shortcomings… you’re left with a choice. You can either throw up your hands and say, “that’s just the way I am. It’s the way God wired me. There’s not really anything I can do about it. If you don’t want to accept it, that’s you’re problem. In fact, you shouldn’t be so judgmental in the first place. How ’bout I take some time and point out everything wrong about you? Does that sound like fun?” Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Or…
You can face it and try to change. I’m going to go for this option, though I’ve certainly gone the other way far too many times. So, if you’re ever sitting around thinking about me (as I’m sure you do all the time) and you’re the praying type, I’d appreciate one or two on my behalf.
On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
He answered: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind,’ and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
Luke 10:25-29
I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for a long while, not this post in particular but definitely about the subject. I really started thinking about it more often once President Obama pretty much locked his party’s nomination last year during which time I heard him called a terrorist, a communist, a racist, a murderer, and the Antichrist (and that was all just in emails I received). Thinking about this subject began to consume significant amounts of my time the night of the election when I sat in bed watching the results come in from across the country while simultaneously checking tweets and Facebook status updates continually. As I watched crowds of people from all walks of life in Grant Park swell with pride that manifested itself in both cheers and tears, I read comments from my friends, some of you even, from people I respect, that made me grieve.
In all the name-calling I heard thrown the President’s way, rarely did I hear “Christian,” and if I did, it was from political pundits analzing his campaign on CNN or MSNBC (but not Fox News) and not from any of his fellow brothers or sisters. But I don’t want to talk about President Obama, not specifcially anyway. He’s not what I was spending so much time thinking about (though maybe I should have). The topic that has been concerning me so much and that is the subject of this post is simply what I wrote above in the title.
And who is my enemy?
In Luke 10 (in the Bible) we’ve got this great scene that plays out. Some lawyer comes up to Jesus because he’s sat around and figured out what he considers to be an inquiry that at the very least will test if he’s worth his weight in matzah and at the very best could actually reveal him to be the Messiah. He asks Jesus what he has to do to live forever Jesus, being the sly teacher that he is, responds with his own question, basically asking the lawyer to sum up the Law he so devotedly serves.
Now, remember, we’re not just talking about the big 10 here. The Mosaic Law had been expanded to include 613 different statutes with a bunch of extra rabbinical writing added on top to explain and define the 613. This was no easy task and was basically a theological minefield that consisted of one giant land mine. However, the guy gets it right. He actually gives the exact same answer that Jesus himself gives in Matthew 22 and Mark 12 when asked, “what is the greatest commandment?” So, this is no late-night-commercial ambulance-chaser. This guy’s got goods, and Jesus acknowledges it.
“That’s right,” he says. “Do that and you’ll live forever.”
Now, don’t forget, as smart as this guy might be, Jesus is the teacher in this situation. He’s leading this guy on. He knows there’s no way possible for this lawyer to actually keep those commandments. Let’s forget the other 611 for a moment. Try for one day to, one hour, even, perhaps just a moment, to live fully those two laws and you’ll come up short every time. The smart lawyer knows this too. So, he wants to back himself off a little bit, get himself off the hook.
He asks, “and who is my neighbor?”
Jesus answers with the story of the Good Samaritan. I won’t exegete the whole parable here (there’s much better people than me who have done so elsewhere). I’ll just say this. His answer to this question was basically, “everyone’s your neighbor, even the person you detest more than any other, the most wretched, foul, on-the-fringe human being you can conceive of, whether they can reward or return your love or not… that’s your neighbor.” (Those are my words, obviously… I’m paraphrasing, in a way)
I think we… we who seek the Christ, the Son of the living God, to know Him, to know His will and obey it… we who carry the Gospel of the righteousness of God and serve as His ambassadors to a lost and dying world… we who claim to know and love the Word of God, His revelation of Himself to all humankind… I think we don’t often enough ask, “who is my neighbor?”
Most of us seem to be much more interested in wondering, “who is my enemy?”
Of course we’re not so overt in our inquiry. In fact, the only reason we want so badly to know who our enemies are is so that we know who we’re against. And as is the case who were against is directly correlated to what we’re against. So, once we know what we’re against we can then know what we’re for. At least that’s how it looks to those on the outside. This convoluted public persona we’ve propagated has us giving the appearance that our principles, values, convictions and beliefs are much more defined by what we don’t stand for as opposed to what we do. At the very least this is a colossal image problem in dire need of a makeover. At the worst, it’s an indictment on all of us (Christians, that is).
My favorite performance poet, Taylor Mali, has a piece entitled Silver-Lined Heart (you can download it on iTunes if you’re interested) that’s pretty much addressed to other poets, particularly those on the slam circuit, that too often distinguish themselves and make their points in a similar way to what I’m talking about. He ends this poem with following stanza.
So don’t waste my time and your curses on verses
about what you are against, despise, and abhor.
Tell me what inspires you, what fulfills and fires you,
put your precious pen to paper and tell me what you’re for!
I don’t know about you, but I’m with Taylor. I’m sick of us on TV and in our pulpits and in front of our youth groups and in our endlessly forwarded emails railing against all of “those people.” Those Gays. Those Democrats. Those Republicans. Those Muslims. Those Rednecks. Those Pagans. Those baby-killing doctors. Those welfare mothers. Those gun-toting cowboys. Those Asians. Those Africans. Those Mormons. Those Catholics. Those Baptists. Those crazy Pentecostals. Those stuck-up Anglicans. Those Arabs. Those Terrorists. Those French. Most of us can barely tolerate each other (any Christian that doesn’t go to our church and at least half of the ones that do) much less the rest of the people we’re supposed to be introducing to Jesus.
And before you get all over my case and accuse me of being all high and mighty and exhort me to get down off my pedestal, let me be clear that, as the apostle Paul said so eloquently, I am chief amongst sinners. And so are you.
And sure there are and are going to be things worth fighting for and that require confrontation. We shouldn’t be a doormat for anyone. Meek doesn’t mean weak. Just ask Jesus. If you believe that as a Christian President Obama is blowing some things, then as a fellow believer you have an inherent duty to call him on it. But there is a difference between disciplining and damning. There is a difference between confrontation and combat. There is a difference being holy and being holier-than-thou. There is a difference between being righteous and just being right. There is certainly a difference between love and hate. And just in case you missed it there are differences between us and it looks to me like that’s how God intended it. Turns out our Creator is pretty creative.
I’m embarrassed at the picket signs and accompanying shouts touting what some people errently believe God to hate. I’m embarrassed that the best press a religious youth event can get is when it involves a screaming match outside on the steps between two rival groups of “sinners” and “saints.” I’m embarrassed when moralism replaces Godly living. I’m embarrassed about how I’m represented on television by spokesmen for my faith foaming at the mouth in righteous indignation over what they believe they’ve suffered at the hands of the liberal media elite. I’m embarrassed at the political environments that rule so many of our churches and ministries. I’m embarrassed… for me… for them… for you. And the closer I get to the heart of God, however small those incriments might be, the more weary, burdened and sad I get… because that’s how I think He feels about it.
We Christians seem to be incapable (or at least ill-prepared) of combating the evil around us because we cannot separate that evil from people to whom we attach it. For that reason, we are in constant sin. Sure there are going to be those who persecute us, who seek our destruction, who want to alienate us and shut us up, who even kill us and who hate us. Of course there are. Remember from John 15, they hated Jesus first. But I want to be hated because I’m like Him, not because I represent Him poorly. And even when I am hated, I am never justified to respond to anyone who feels that way in the same manner. Never.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
Ephesians 6:12
You see, the question of “who is my enemy” is a moot point. It doesn’t matter the least little bit. Why? Because anyone who’s my enemy is also my neighbor, and even if they weren’t, I’m to respond to them in kind. “But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you…” LOVE!!! Come on!
That verse is from Luke 6, by the way. Verse 27 to be exact. Now go read the rest of the chapter and think on these things.
That’s all for me right now. I’ve got to go repent of the hatred I felt for some of my fellow Christ-followers I felt in writing this post. Hopefully, this was part of the cleansing process for me. Maybe it will be for you too.
Until we report to Brookwood hospital for the birth of our daughter, Story Reese.
I can’t even begin to process all of this. I had a brief moment tonight where I seriously thought a panic attack might have been coming on. But I’m better now, and I’m pretty sure I just needed to get through all of that. Now, I’ll be fine.
I hope.
So many things keep running through my mind. Stuff I need to do. Stuff I wish I had done. I think I’m looking for things I can control and that I know I can do, because tomorrow… well, tomorrow is happening. I mean it feels like I’m just holding on for dear life. Like I’m going hyperspeed in the Millenium Falcon, only I’m like C3PO being thrown back into my seat. I just hope Liza doesn’t have to flip my switch off.
I don’t like not knowing things. I don’t like not being a contributor. I don’t like being out of control. Etc. So, this is good for me.
Plus… it’s like this amazing culmination of all these years of struggle and prayers and fights and worries and hopes and… I don’t know what else.
Everything. It feels like a culmination of everything.
I’m pretty sure tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of my life so far… maybe ever… I don’t know… I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to be comparing it against.
Things I do know right now are…
1. My family is great. And pretty much all of you are included in that, whether related or not. So thanks. Your support and enthusiasm is humbling and amazing. I love you all.
2. Norman Gentle is the best thing to happen to American Idol.
3. Lost is blowing my mind, and I love it.
4. I’m “ready.” I guess. I don’t even know what that means.
5. Liza is currently my hero.
6. Time didn’t stand still for me this week like I would have wanted, but I’m kinda okay with that.
7. I wish I had some chocolate chip cookies.
I don’t know if I’ll blog tomorrow, but I’ll be twittering for sure. So, you can follow things there, if you’re interested.
During my blogging absence lots of things have happened. You would think that would have made me want to blog more. It did. Really. I just never ended up getting around to it.
“Why,” you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you.
In no particular order the reasons for my blogging absence are as follows…
1. Video Games – I’m a gamer. I admit it. I’m not a hardcore gamer, but when I do get a new game, I play it constantly… until I finish… I just finished my latest… and I haven’t bought another one… so there.
2. Tons of Work Stuff – I’m really enjoying my job. There’s a lot of new challenges and a lot of balls in the air (that’s just for you, Erin). I also end up in a lot of meetings. I mean a lot. That’s calmed down a little bit lately, which is good, because I often end up working a decent amount in the evenings (when not playing video games) since so much of my time at work is spent in meetings instead of doing actual work.
3. Freelance – I’ve got two big freelance assignments right now that are extremely fun and very challenging. I haven’t been able to give then near the attention I want/need to, but I do give them attention, which takes away from the blogging.
4. Story – You might have heard me mention my infant daughter. She’s yet to arrive, though she’s scheduled to do so this Thursday. However, there’s been a number of things to do in preparation for her coming. It’s been crazy but exciting. And now I’m (we’re) ready, or at least as ready as we’ll ever be.
5. Slump – I’ve been in a slump, writing wise. It’s been a bad one. A real bad one. It has affected some of the things listed above. I’m coming out of it, which is nice, but not as quickly as I’d like. Plus, my computer crashed on Friday. I lost two days of work, and I still don’t have it back. What does that have to do with my slump? Well, not a whole lot, except that it is just one more thing to throw me off my game. I like to be able to get into a rhythm of things. That doesn’t always happen quickly, but once it does happen I can really churn some stuff out. I had finally hit one. Then my computer went kaput. Now, I’m looking for my rhythm again.
However, I really want to believe I’m back to blogging now, not so much for you guys, though I appreciate each and everyone of you, but for my own sake. I like blogging. It’s good for me for a number of reasons.
Be forewarned, though. A number of the upcoming posts are going to be concerned with Story’s birth. If you’re not into that sort of thing, sorry. You might want to take a break from reading this for awhile. For the rest of you, thanks for taking an interest. I think you’ll really like her.
I don’t know if I totally like this new site, by the way. Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I’m sure I’ll be messing around with it… which will be just one more thing to distract me.
Nobody’s perfect, right? I mean, we all know that. Especially about ourselves. Though, we probably like to admit it about ourselves the least. It’s much easier to point out the faults of someone, anyone, else other than ourselves. So often we expend great energy and significant amounts of time trying to hide just how imperfect we are. But every now and then our defenses break down. Someone recognizes the cracks in our facade and picks away at it until we are forced to face ourselves and admit that contrary to the lie we’ve been attempting to feed ourselves and everyone else, we don’t have it all together… not in the least.
